She could not bring herself to resolve that she would, on the moment, change her mind.

She believed that she could never pardon herself such weakness.

But yet she felt herself to be aware that her purpose was wicked.

When the knock at the door was at last heard she trembled and feared that she would almost be unable to speak to him.

Might it be possible that there should yet be a reprieve for her?
No; it was his step on the stairs, and there he was in the room with her.
"My dearest," he said, coming to her.